Always Kiss Me Goodnight
by FilthyxMind
Summary: AU Highschool. Angst, humor, romance.
1. Seniors

**Always Kiss Me Goodnight**

**

* * *

**

**J.T

* * *

**

Daphne's excited. She's always liked moving up in grades, convinced that the next years going to be better than the last and then she gets disappointed when it's not better. That it's the same – or worst. This years no difference. Moving up from a junior to a senior is big fucking news for her. She's more excited than ever, rambling for eternity about how fun this year will be. How different things are going to be. How everything's going to be a huge fucking blast. I'm not one to burst her bubble so I keep my mouth shut and agree with her when it's necessary. She'll find out for herself – this year **won't** be different.

"Back for another year in hell."

Daphne rolls her eyes at me as we step through the front doors of St. James. I'm being serious. St. James is hell and we both know it. Daphne just chooses to be more enthusiastic and less pessimistic about things. We both know, however, that I know she really agrees with me and that she's just too stubborn to agree with me with her voice. Pulling at my tie, I hate the fucking thing, we both head down the halls, schedules in our hands. Too be honest, I'm slightly nervous. I usually am at the start of the year…but only because I don't want to get shoved inside a locker my first day here. That'd be bad luck.

"Do you always have to be so,"

"Yeah, I do, Daph."

"Obviously. You should be excited, Jus! We're seniors. Do you know what that _means_?"

"One more year until we get out of hell?"

She rolls her eyes at me again and we're both relieved to see that we have lockers next to each other. Daphne smiles over at me. "See? It won't be too bad." It's my turn to roll _my_ eyes. "You can determine an entire year by how are lockers are situated? Damn – you are _good_." She pushes me lightly on the shoulder, looks down at the scrap of paper in her hand and begins spinning in her combination. I don't bother opening my locker. We haven't gotten any of our books yet so I have nothing to put inside. She always opens her locker on the first day of school and then shuts it again after close inspection. Her locker door slams shut. I smirk.

"Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"Yes, it's a very nice locker."

"I'm happy for you."

"_Shut up_. What class do you have?"

I look down at my crumpled schedule.

"Literature."

"Me too! See, it's getting better and better."

"You're so retarded."

"Gee, thanks, Justin."

She shoves me on the shoulder again, grabs hold of my wrist, and practically drags me all the way to the literature room smiling as we go. I groan as she pushes me quite roughly inside the large classroom, teacher writing his name on the board with a black dry erase marker. _Mr. Cato._ He's new. Still holding tightly onto my wrist, Daphne leads us to two seats in the very back. I sigh with relief that she isn't going to make us sit in the very front like she usually does. Once we're seated we sit and talk. Well, Daphne talks about how, during the summer, she saw a boy, wanted said boy, and said boy became her boyfriend. The said boy's name would be Derek and she didn't waste time telling me how he "popped her cherry."

I've never met Derek and I don't think I want to. Well, I don't want to see the two of them together anyway because, well, I'm just not ready for hetero PDA. Especially between my best friend and some…guy. I look towards the door every few seconds, telling myself that I'm not jealous that Daphne has lost her virginity before me, waiting for her prince in shining armor to walk in. She practically squeals when he does and I can see why. He's pretty good looking. She smiles over at him and waves him over. I inwardly roll my eyes. Fuck – he can't come over here.

"Justin, this is Derek. Derek – Justin. He's my best-friend."

"Nice to meet you."

I offer him a nod and smile. That's all he's getting. Daphne bites her lip.

"Jus, you mind if I sit with Derek?"

YES.

"Sure. No problem."

She breaks out into a smile, leans over and kisses me on the cheek, and slides out of her seat and sits next to Derek at the table directly in front of me. I cringe when I see Derek's hand rest on her thigh. _Gross_. Sighing, I rest my chin in the palm of my hand and stare down at the black surface of the table, fingers tracing invisible patterns. Trying to find a way to amuse myself I guess. The door opens again and I look up, just curious to see who it is. If it's someone I know so they can sit next to me. Then I remember that Daphne is the only person I ever talk to at St. James. Except Chris Hobbs and I'm usually telling him to fuck off after he shoves me against a row of lockers or something.

I definitely don't know the gorgeous specimen that walks in.

His tall form pauses at the entrance, intense hazel eyes searching for a place to sit. I pray, hope, and beg God to make him sit here. I'm suddenly glad that Daphne abandoned me for her cherry popper because this guy needs to sit next to me. This gorgeous brunet just **has** to. His eyes meet mine and I hope I don't look as startled as I feel because I don't want to look like an idiot in front of him. A smirk on his face his form saunters over in my direction. I quickly look away so my eyes don't wander and stare back down at the surface of the desk. Like he would ever sit next to me anyway. I'm a loser. I'm anti-social. I'm un-popular.

Doesn't he know that by now? Probably.

"Is this seat taken?"

Blinking and licking my dry lips, I look back up from the table and slowly shake my head.

"Nope, feel free."

He sits down, his backpack placed on the table and looks over at me. He's so fucking…perfect. He's the most beautiful teen I've ever seen in my life.

"Brian Kinney."

"Justin Taylor."

He nods and the bell rings so there's no more room for talking and we tune in to class.

* * *

**B.K**

* * *

The first thing I think when I walk into my first period class is 'the blond kid is hot'. There's no way I'm going to pass up that empty chair and not sit next to him. And by the look on his face he's all too eager to let me sit next to him. Just my luck – the hottest student in the room is gay. Maybe St. James won't be so bad after all. It can't be any worst than my old school. And my old school sucked ass.

To make my day better – Taylor's in all my classes.

I made sure to sit next to him in each one. And he didn't seem to mind.

I wander around the halls looking for my locker when the last bell rings for the day. I don't want to go home. Most kids would want to go home after school but definitely not me. Drunk dads with rough abusive tactics and overly-religious-alcoholic mothers weren't the type of thing you would want to go home to. I feel slightly frustrated because I can't seem to find my fucking locker but it doesn't last long because I'm suddenly distracted by the sounds of scuffling feet, jeers from a rough male voice, and a locker door slamming open.

I move around the corner and witness a boy I don't know gripping onto Justin's tie and pushing him hard **inside** his locker. The blond tells him to fuck off and the boy replies with a leer and a taunt about flaunting homosexuality around all over the place. What a Fucktard. No one would've guessed that Justin was gay unless they were me because I'm on the one he has the _blushing impediment_ with. The locker door is slammed shut and Justin is locked inside. The boy makes haste in leaving the scene of the crime and disappearing quite successfully. I walk closer to Justin's locker, hearing the boy kick and yell for the boy to come back so he can kick his ass.

This, if you ask me, would be pretty hard to do locked in a locker.

"Lockers are for your books, Taylor."

He's suddenly silent and then,

"Fuck you – help me out."

"My, my, we are rude aren't we? Sorry – my hands are full."

I'm not holding a damn thing but I'm sure it's pissing Justin off quite successfully.

"C'mon! _Please_?"

"Well, you're getting _better_."

"I'd get on my hands and knees and _beg_ but I don't have enough room, asshole."

"You could always_ get on your knees_ when I let you out."

He's silent and I can imagining him blushing on the other side of the metal locker door.

"Just let me out."

"Please?"

"Fuck – please."

"Alright, what's your combination."

"9-19-9."

I quickly put in the combination and swing open the locker door. He spills out, into me, and I wonder if he possibly does this on purpose. I decide not because Justin doesn't seem like the type of guy to throw himself at guys like that. He quickly pushes himself away from me, limbs stretching and eyes narrowing. He probably wants to really kick some ass right now.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, Taylor."

"Yeah, I'll bet you had a good laugh."

"You bet."

He smiles at me for a second and tilts his head to the side a little bit before he turns to leave.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"I guess you will."

He smiles one last time and turns around and I don't move until I can no longer see his retreating back. He has a nice ass, that's all I have to say.


	2. Kiss

**J.T

* * *

**

"You use protection right?"

Daphne rolls her eyes.

"Duh, of course we do."

"Why am I even talking to you about your sex life? It's making me sick."

Daphne snorts and continues rambling on about how much she loves Derek and how she's convinced that the two of them are "soulmates." Honestly – she never shuts up about him. I keep my eyes open for Brian who has become something of a friend of mine. After the first day of school we had continued sitting next to each other in every class, eating lunch together along with Daphne and Derek, and, yeah, I'd say we're friends a month later after our first meeting. Daphne nudges me in the side with her elbow as we enter the literature classroom.

"You want him don't you?"

"What are you _talking about_? Derek's straight."

"You and I both know that I'm not talking about _Derek_. We both know that I'm talking about a certain hottie that's walking towards us right about…**now**."

As soon as the word 'now' is out of her mouth Brian strides into the room. It never ceases to amaze me that Daphne is such a lucky guesser as to when Brian's close by. I roll my eyes over at her. "I don't think so, Daph." She snorts and sits down in her usual seat in front of me. "Whatever you say, Blondie but I know." I sit down in my seat and smile at Brian as he sits down next to me, bag slung on top of the table and tall form getting comfortable on the not-so comfortable chairs.

"Hey, kids."

Daphne smirks.

"I'm definitely no kid. Kids haven't done what I've done."

I make a gagging sound.

"I _hope_ most kids haven't fucked your boyfriend."

"You know what I meant, Mr. Jealous."

I raise an eyebrow.

"What do I have to be jealous about?"

Daphne smirks again, hands folding on her lap and she turns to face me all the way. "You're just feeling some jealousy due to the fact that I've had sex and," Brian breaks in, cutting Daphne completely off. "You haven't had sex?" A few people look in our direction and I narrow my eyes at the smirking brunet. "Way to direct attention, asshole and, no, I haven't. We've known each other for what? A _month_? And you didn't know?" Brian doesn't reply, he just turns back around in his seat and directs his attention to the front of the room.

Mr. Cato comes in a few seconds later. Derek arrives twenty minutes late.

And class begins.

"You're such a pig."

"Thanks, Brian."

I smile sweetly at him as I eat my fourth slice of pizza. It's not my fault that I'm hungry. Daphne grins, laughs, and goes back to talking to Derek. Derek is officially getting on my nerves. All she ever does is talk to him. Himhimhimhim and him. It's all about Derek now. Rolling my eyes over at the inseparable couple I begin gulping down my coke. Suddenly there's a hand slapping hard against the back of my head and my soda ends up all over my face and the front of my clothes. "Oops! Sorry, fag!" Groaning, I look over my shoulder at his retreating back.

"Fuck you, Hobbs!"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

I inwardly gag. How 'bout no.

"In your fucking dreams you fucking pussy."

Suddenly the larger teen is barreling back to our table – thanks to me and my stupid ass mouth – and I'm soon picked up by the collar. A few seconds later his fist collides with my nose and I'm a bleeding mess. Where are teachers when you need them? Not here obviously. Daphne's yelling at Chris to stop except…he doesn't listen to her. Next I'm being punched in the stomach and I'm staggering backwards, doubled over. Fuck him. Who knew him being called a pussy would make him so pissed off? If I had I wouldn't have said it.

Then Brian's there, his taller and stronger form shoving Chris off of me and onto the floor with a loud thump. "Get your fucking hands off of him, Fucktard." Daphne's around the table next inspecting my face. "You need to go see the school nurse." I push her away and touch my nose to only get blood all over my hand. "Fuck that. If I go to the nurse I'll get a detention for fighting." Chris gets up to his feet, sends me one last glare, and stalks away with his jock buddies before anymore damage can be done. Frowning, Brian grabs my wrist.

"C'mon, I'll help you get cleaned up."

"Thanks."

Brian takes me to the bathroom, which is empty since everyone is at lunch. Thank god – I didn't want to have to answer questions. "Get up on the counter." Without a word I pull myself up onto the bathroom counter, legs dangling off the edge, and one hand holding my stomach, which hurts like fucking hell. Brian wets a few paper towels and gently begins wiping my face, careful not to touch my nose too hard. Just soft. And I realize just how close we are. Probably too close. His free hand holds my chin in place so I don't move while is other hand continue to wash away the blood. His eyes look up momentarily from my nose, and probably bruising lip, and meet my eyes.

If I've thought it once I've thought it a million times – his eyes are just…**intense**. They're just not any _ordinary_ hazel. They're, it's hard to explain. They're just beautiful. Like he is and, of course, I won't tell him that because that would just be utterly embarrassing but I think it all the time. I quickly avert my eyes somewhere else, not able to look at him anymore. I hadn't even noticed that his hand had slowed quite considerably through the time that we had just sat there staring at each other. Too bad he didn't kiss me. A part of me had been hoping he would. We're close – only a few centimeters away from our lips touching. If I just moved forward a little bit – I push the thought away and concentrate only on being cleaned.

"I knew your mouth would get you in trouble."

I smile slightly glad that he spoke.

"He really fucking pisses me off. It's not my fault."

He picks up a clean dry paper towel and begins wiping away the wetness, still careful around my nose. I sigh and raise an eyebrow. "How bad is the damage?" He smirks. "Really fucking bad. You look like shit." I roll my eyes and say thanks for the encouragement and he replies with a no problem. He helps me off the sink and grabs the hem of my shirt. Eyes widening slightly I take a step back, my ass meeting the edge of the counter I had just been sitting on. "What are you doing?" He raises an eyebrow, weird expression on his face. "I was just gonna look at your stomach. He punched you pretty hard." I nod, relax, and step forward again my cheeks quickly flushing at my stupidity.

This time he successfully lifts my shirt and examines the large bruise forming on my stomach.

"Nothings broken."

"You're really good at this…healing thing."

A look of pain flashes across his face and it disappears before I can ask him about it. He grins and shrugs his shoulder, changing the subject. "No wonder you're still a virgin." I narrow my eyes and slap his hands away from my shirt and let it fall back down over the bruise.

"What does _that_ mean?"

"I only touched the hem of your shirt and you nearly screamed rape."

"I did not."

I cross my arms over my chest and continue narrowing my eyes at him…even though he's right. I did freak out more than necessary. "Whatever you say, Sunshine." I nod. "That's more like it." He smiles at me, arms coming to wrap around my neck, legs pressing against my legs and his body far too close to mine to be a friendly gesture. His forehead rests against mine and I hesitantly rest my hands on his sides. Ok, for one, he's never so much as hugged me before and two, I can only imagine what someone would think if they barged in here and saw us. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

I blink. What kind of question is that? I bite my lip and shake my head.

"Does my mom count?"

"Gross, you've kissed your mom?"

"On the cheek, perve!"

"No, that doesn't count."

"Then…no?"

Before I know what the hell is happening his lips are gently pressing against mine and I freeze. What am I supposed to do? I've never kissed anyone before. For fucks sake, I've never even held a guys hand. Suddenly my lips move against his and I realize that my knuckles are probably turning white I'm gripping onto his hips so tightly. His arms pull me tighter against his body, his erection pressing against my leg and his tongue sliding into my mouth and meeting my own tongue for the first time.

Suddenly I push him away, eyes wide with bewilderment.

"I-I have to get to class…"

Without another word I stumble out of the bathroom, cheeks burning, my cock semi-hard, and my lips bruised in a different way then Chris's fist colliding with them.


	3. Innocent

**B.K

* * *

**

I just couldn't keep my mouth off of him. I just couldn't keep myself from tarnishing his perfect innocence. How is any gay male supposed to keep their hands or lips off of him? He's one of the hottest guys I've seen in my life. I don't even know how I waited an entire month to just…touch him. I guess I should thank Chris Hobbs for giving me the chance to spend some alone time with Justin. But, I probably made a huge mistake. Justin had fucking freaked out on me and I don't know about you but that's not usually a good thing. No one has ever freaked out when I've kissed them. This is a first.

So, it's predictable, the next morning that Justin doesn't even so much as glance my way when I sit down next to him for first period. Daphne raises her eyebrow at me and I just shrug. If Justin hasn't told her about me kissing him yet she will hear about it. Whenever Justin's ready to tell her. Or maybe I should just spare her the waiting and tell her myself.

"New assignment, kids."

God, doesn't the fucking teacher know that we're seniors. _Not_ kids. I glance over at Justin but he continues to stare ahead and pay Mr. Cato his full attention, hands folded on the desk but I know that he's perfectly aware of me looking at him. He never pays this much attention in class. In **any** class. Rolling my eyes at his…stupid attitude, I look up and listen as the teacher explains our assignment.

"Whoever you're sitting next to will be who you're working with,"

I glance over at Justin to see if he's having a fucking cow. Surprisingly, he's not.

"I'll be assigning a different piece of literature to each of you and you'll both read it together and have to tell me about it in seven page essay, no less than that. Alright – Daphne Chanders and Derek Holmes: Romeo & Juliet. Justin Taylor and Brian Kinney: The Odyssey. Chris Hobbs and…"

I glance over at him again. He's fidgeting with a strap on his backpack. I contemplate on asking him what the hell he's so freaked out about. He enjoyed it. I can feel and I definitely felt him responding. I definitely felt his mouth moving against mine. I definitely heard him make a silent moan inside my mouth. And I _know_ I felt his dick getting hard against mine so I don't see what the problem is. After Mr. Cato gives all the students their assignment he passes out the literature to each of us. Our book is pretty old and ratty.

I look over at the silent blond.

"We'll have to work at your house."

There's no way in hell that we're going to my place. For the first time this morning Justin looks over at me. He even manages to hold eye contact. He slowly nods. "That's fine." I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes. "How's your stomach?" He's silent for a moment and I look over at him. His skin is becoming slightly flushed and he runs a hand quickly through his hair. During the month that I've known him I've learned all of his nervous habits. He'll bite his thumbnail or his bottom lip. He'll run his hand through his hair repeatedly. He'll just have this…**look**. He's easy for me to read.

"It's fine, thanks. So is my nose."

That's nine words he's said to me all morning. Maybe we're getting somewhere. I nod, tipping backwards in my chair. "That's good. Did your mom freak?" I've heard a one or a million stories about Jennifer Taylor. Stories from how much she loves Justin to stories about how protective she gets over him about certain things. Like bullies. Justin complains incessantly about how protective and worrisome she is about him. He complained because he's seventeen and doesn't think his mother should worry. I wish my mother worried about me, not that I would actually tell anyone that.

"She wasn't too happy when I told her what happened. I gave her the cleaner version, leaving out profanity and…stuff."

Stuff equaling _Brian trying to rape me in the bathroom._

I nod, smiling slightly.

"Did your dad threaten to knock Chris's head off or something?"

Justin never talks about his father. Whenever I bring him up the blond always manages to change the subject before the discussion can get too far. Justin swallows, strange expression falling onto his face, and his body shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "My father wasn't home. He isn't home much." That's something I can't relate to. My dad's home **all the time**. I wish he wasn't home all the time. Maybe Jack should get together with Craig Taylor and they could go out together instead of staying home with their sons. "Oh, well, did your mom?" For the first time, the blond smiles. It's only slightly though.

"My mom's not exactly butch enough to do something like that. Or violent enough."

I nod, smiling over at him. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. Unless we're alone together. Justin will probably never let me be in the same space alone with him again. Fuck, I wish he'd at least tell me why he was so freaked about the sexual contact that had happened yesterday. "I would have done more. Then shove him on the floor I mean. If we hadn't been at school at the time." Justin smiles softly at me once more and shrugs. "Thanks, but, you did enough to help me." I'm not sure if he means this as a bad thing or a good thing so, I decide to ask. I've always been one to say what I was feeling. Well, most of the time anyway.

"Is that a good thing or bad thing?"

The blond pauses a moment, biting his lip. Then,

"It's a good thing…"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

* * *

**J.T**

* * *

"Is there something wrong between you and Brian?" 

I look over at Daphne, the two of us sitting on her bed doing our homework for today. I shrug and choose not to say anything. Is there? Sure, I had totally freaked out in the bathroom yesterday when Brian had kissed me. It wasn't that I hadn't enjoyed it. God, I had thoroughly enjoyed it. I had wanted it to last longer but…I freaked. I'm not sure exactly why I did but…I did and that's the end of the story. Maybe it's because I'm scared of the whole relationship thing. Last time Daphne got dumped by someone she had "loved" she hadn't been the same for several weeks.

I don't want to end up like that.

And then there's the fact that I'm totally inexperienced. Why would Brian want someone that doesn't know anything about relationships, sex and dating? Sure, I know about it all but I don't know. If that makes any sense. Daphne places her pencil down on her spiral notebook and raises an eyebrow over at me. Sensing her drilling stare, I glance up from my work and try to act as innocently and unknowing as possible.

"What happened?"

"It was yesterday…in the bathroom…"

"What happened?"

She suddenly looks very interested. I can only imagine what her dirty mind is thinking up.

"He kissed me."

"Oh. My. GOD. Are you serious? Is he a good kisser? Did you kiss him back? Did you enjoy it? What'd you say afterwards? What'd he say? Did,"

I throw my pencil at her causing her to clamp her mouth shut.

"Yes, I'm serious. Yes, he's an excellent kisser but I don't have anything to compare him to either. Yes, I kissed him back…after a few seconds of being frozen. Uh, yes, I mean…I guess I enjoyed it…a lot. I actually…ended it. I completely freaked, Daphne! I ran out of that bathroom as fast as I could telling him I had to get to class. So…I didn't really give either of us a chance to say anything…I'm such an idiot."

"You're such an innocent little boy, Justin."

"I'm not an innocent little boy."

She raises her eyebrow at me again.

"What?"

"You are too innocent."

"Fine, you're right. I have the sexual age of a fucking **elementary** school student. You don't have to rub it in."

* * *

**B.K

* * *

**

I dial Justin's number hoping my father doesn't hear the sounds of the phone. He's asleep, drunk out of his fucking mind, on the couch downstairs. It's better when he's asleep. Much, much better. Four rings later the blond answers his phone.

"Hello?"

"Justin? It's Brian."

"Oh, um, hey."

"I was thinking, this weekend, Friday, tomorrow, which is tomorrow, maybe, we could get together and read 'The Odyssey' together…at your house. Or somewhere."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Uh – you wanna just come home with me Friday that way you don't have to drive. I could always give you a lift back home after we've had enough reading."

"Sure, that's fine. G'night, Sunshine."

"Night."

I hate fucking awkwardness. I hate **him** being awkward. Sighing, I throw my face into my pillows and the phone drops to the floor with a loud thump. I'm sure it sounds louder than it really is. I lie stock still and hear my father's snores cease. And then heavy footsteps striding up the stairs. I can almost hear his heavy breathing as he gets closer and closer to my door.

I am so fucked.


	4. Friends

* * *

**xxx **

**B.K**

* * *

My door suddenly swings open. I know what you're probably thinking - Why don't I just simply _lock _my door? Not too long ago, actually, the first day we moved to Pittsburgh my dad made sure that the lock was removed. Smart little bastard. If I can't lock him out he can have all the "fun" he wants to with me. I quickly pick myself up off my bed, my hands automatically making fists, and my form quickly switching from laid back to extremely tense in about five seconds. In Jack Kinney's right hand is a beer bottle - half empty. His left hand is clenched and ready to punch me in the face and I'm waiting for it too. He staggers into the room looking around suspiciously. Because everyone just knows how much trouble I cause at home - like being born.

"Wha-you doin', Sonny Boy?"

"Nothing."

"Fucking _liar _- what was that noise?"

He takes two steps towards me possibly planning on knocking the daylights out of me but said object that made noise suddenly starts ringing. I quickly reach down and pick it up, thanking the gods for the save, and I answer it. My dad may be drunk but he's still smart enough not to do anything when I'm on the phone with someone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Brian! It's Daphne! I've heard something...**interesting **recently."

I breathe a sigh of relief. My dad looks thouroghly irritated that his abusive rampage had been put on hold. "_Uh _- really?" I watch as my dad stalks out of my room and let out an extremely loud sigh into the phone. "Are you alright, Brian?" I haven't told anyone about my dad. I haven't told anyone about my mother. I haven't told anyone about my "perfect" sister, Claire, who has the abuse free end of the life. I always shy from telling either of my friends about my "wonderful" homelife. I'd rather spare them that. Plus, I don't want anyone fucking pitying me. "Um, yeah, Daphne, I'm fine..." For now. Until you hang up on me and leave me alone here. I shove the thoughts away and ask her what interesting news she's heard. That's important enough to tell me.

"You _kissed _Justin!"

Oh. That.

"So, he told you."

"Duh! So that's why he was acting so weird around you! When he told me I couldn't believe it. So, what are you guys now? A couple?"

She sounds way to excited about all of this. I sigh heavily into the phone and roll my eyes.

"No, more like extremely _awkward_. Well, he is anyway."

"_That's _Justin. He's so adorable."

"Is there a point to this phone call?"

Yeah - saving my skin. "Well, not really. I just wanted to hear your point of view about it." I sit back down on my bed and sprawl myself down on it. I don't usually talk on the phone but right now, I want to kiss the girl on the other side of the phone. Usually that thought would disgust me. "What'd he say about it?" Daphne giggled on the other end of the phoneline. "Well...he was extremely embarassed about running out like that but," She stops talking and I groan at her through the phone. She can be so annoying sometimes. Like she is whenever Derek's around. I'm not the only one who's tired of her boyfriend. All you have to do is see the look on Justin's face whenever the other teen enters the room and it looks like all hell is going to break loose. "What, Daphne?"

"Well, lets just say...he thouroughly enjoyed you attacking him."

"I didn't _attack _him. He totally wanted it."

She snorts. "Who wouldn't?"

"You have a boyfriend and I'm gay so you're definitely out of luck."

She sighs, acting out sorrow.

"Unfortunatly. Anyway, you should probably treat him...less...sexually."

I laugh. "What?"

"Well, he's not exactly _up there _in the sexual food chain and,"

"Yeah, I know. I was his first kiss."

"I'm just saying that he's totally,"

"Unexperienced? I didn't notice."

She laughs and I can imagine her shaking her head and rolling her eyes at me through the phone. "Yeah, I can see why it's so hard not too. Asshole. And I'd also like to threaten you. This is how it works - I warn you in my most threatening voice that if you hurt him I'll castrate you and then leave you to die." I wince. It sounds excrutiatingly painful. "I wasn't planning on it." She quickly answers me with a good and tells me she has to leave because precious Derek is there to study with her. Yeah, study. "Alright, bye Daphne." I hang up and am quieter with setting the phone down. My dad doesn't come back to my room for about two hours and, when he does...

It isn't pleasant.

* * *

**xxx**

J.T

* * *

"Fuck, Brian, are you alright?"

When I got to school this morning I hadn't expected Brian to be here early. I also hadn't expected him to have a hugantic shiner. Even though I'm still embarassed about what happened a few days ago I can't let that keep me from bounding over, maybe standing closer then was necessary, and looking at his shiner carefully, eyebrow raised as to how he got it. He doesn't answer me - he only shrugs and that only makes my suspicions that something horribly wrong had happened to him more active. "C'mon, Brian, something is obviously wrong," He quickly snaps at me, telling me that nothing is wrong, a hard edge in his voice and I immediatly clamp my mouth shut. I don't want to be punished with his angry voice again. He sighs, face softening.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Claire and I got into a fight, she threw something at me and it accidently hit me in the face. It's not a big deal."

I can tell he's lying but I don't say so. If he doesn't want to tell me that's fine. There are tons of things that I've kept secret from him too. Well, not tons of things. But things like my father. Craig Taylor is something I want shut out of my life forever. And shut out of everyone's life. No one needs to know about him. He's never home anyway. He's never said anything but my mom and I both know that he's out late at nights not doing what he tells us he is. Working late. More like out fucking late. That's the only kind of late work he ever does anymore. Jennifer knows it too - not that she would ever come out and say it. I don't either - I don't want her to hurt anymore than she already does. I only nod up at the brunet and quickly take a few steps away from him so I'm not as close anymore. Flashes of what happened last time we were close played behind my eyes.

I don't want to embarass myself further.

"Are you still comin' over tonight?"

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss reading 'The Odyssey' for anything."

I smile, glad that he doesn't sound angry anymore - the look is still there though. "Yeah right. We all know that you live to do homework assignments." He says that he does and that's when Daphne intrudes, hand in hand with Derek. She smiles at the both of us and, oh shit. She probably told Brian that I had told her about what had happened in the bathroom. I narrow my eyes over at her and she just shoots me an innocent look. I cross my arms over my chest and make a point of not telling her hello. She had better keep her mouth shut about the whole ordeal. I'm embarassed enough as it is. Derek clears his throat in the silence and Daphne suddenly talks, breaking it all.

"Have you guys started reading yet? Derek and I did last night."

Brian scoffed.

"When you told me on the phone that you were going to "study" I thought you meant study as in...fuck each others brains out all night."

Daphne rolls her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. Derek looks impossibly embarassed at the remark and chooses not to say a word. Finally something registers in my mind. Daphne had called Brian. That could only mean one thing. My suspicions were now confirmed - she told Brian that I told her about our bathroom moment. I swallow and look over at Brian real quickly. If he's thinking about anything having to do with the kiss then he doesn't look like it. Daphne chooses not to comment on Brian's crude comment but, instead, asks him about his shiner. "What happened to your face?" Brian rolls his eyes. "You don't have to be so rude. I'm already aware of the fact that I'm no longer extremely fuckable anymore. Not until it's gone. I don't need you to remind me." Daphne grins and looks over at me.

"You never answered my question. Have you guys read yet?"

Brian glares at her.

"I'm goin' over to his house tonight to start. Not that it's any of your business."

"So...does that mean...your spending the night?"

I look down at the ground as my cheeks start to burn. She is such a cunt sometimes. I run a hand furiously through my hair and tell myself to calm down. It was a perfectly innocent question. Fuck that! It would have been innocent if someone else had said it but not Daphne. I glance over at Brian and he's smirking. He obviously knows exactly what she's implying. "No, Daphne, I'm not. Why do you ask?" Daphne shrugs, look of fucked up innocence on her face. "Oh, I was just curious. Why aren't you?" I sigh and contemplate on leaving the entire conversation all-together. I don't need this shit. What kind of best-friend is she? I glare over at her and she catches it. She only shrugs her shoulders over at me, small smile playing on her face. Brian shrugs.

"I don't have a change of clothes."

"Oh, well, that's too bad."

Brian and I don't answer this statement. Suddenly the bell rings signaling that all of us should be in first period by now and we hurry towards Mr. Cato's literature/english classroom.

* * *

**xxx**

B.K

* * *

I don't know where he is. I've been waiting for him next to his excuse for a car for twenty-minutes. I lean against the black jeep, wait...wait...and wait. Someone would've thought they'd been stood up if it weren't for the fact that Justin wouldn't just leave his car here. Suddenly I see his blond head burst out of the front doors of the school and then his body begins running towards the jeep, showing just how much of a hurry he's in. When he reaches the jeep I examine his flushed cheeks and apologetic look.

"Where were you?"

"Sorry - I was talking to Daphne. She wouldn't shut up."

"I have a feeling that it was you who wouldn't shut up."

He rolls his eyes and throws his bookbag in the backseat and takes mine and does the same. "Get in." I grin. "What? You aren't going to open the door for me?" He snorts but doesn't reply and I help myself into the passenger side of the jeep. He starts the vehicle and we're on our silent way to his house. I've been to his house before with Daphne a few times. I've never spent the night, however. His mom is nice enough - I've never seen his father though. Like I said, he never mentions his father. So I don't pry. I look over at him, raised eyebrow.

"What were you talking about?"

He looks at me confused, "Huh?"

"You and Daphne. You know, you made me stand out here in the hot heat forever."

"Hot heat? How genius."

"You're ignoring my question."

"You **are **a genius."

I roll my eyes but smile. "C'mon, Taylor. Spill." He shakes his head. "I'd rather not. It's nothing you'd be interested in, anyway." I roll my eyes again. Anything having to do with him I'm interested in. Especially if he's talking about Daphne because it might have something to do with me. "Actually - I'm very interested." He lets out a heavy sigh and sends me a 'you should really learn to mind your own business' look. But he talks anyway. I'm very persuasive. In more ways than one. "You were right. It was me who talked a lot. Actually...I did all the talking. Actually - I kinda yelled at her..." Yeah, I'm definitely intersted. Even if it doesn't have to do with me. "About what? Why'd you yell at her?" He sighs again, a hand running through is hair in that nervous gesture that he does and then it lands back on the wheel.

"About...Derek."

"It's about time."

He raises an eyebrow over at me.

"What?"

"It's obvious that you have an immense problem with him."

"Oo - big word."

"Shut up. What'd you say?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"What? She's my friend too. Plus, I'm not a huge fan of Derek either."

"You're not?"

He sounds genuinely surprised. I snort, "No. Why so surprised?" He quickly shrugs. "I don't know. You just...always got along with him is all...I just figured that you got along with him."

"Well, you figured wrong. Keep talkin'."

"Well, I just told her what I thought about him - them."

"What do you think?"

"I'd rather not talk about it right now."

I nod. If they got into a fight it probably wasn't pretty. They've been best friends, from what I gather, forever. If they've..."split up" then it was probably going to be a hard couple of days for Justin. I smile slightly. Which means that he might come, you know, running to me for...friendship, which I really wouldn't mind - having Justin all to myself for once. "Alright, sure." He smiles gratefully over at me and the rest of the ride to his house in made in comfortable silence.


	5. Study

* * *

**xxx **

BK

* * *

Justin's mom is home when we get there. We made small talk with her for a few minutes; she asked me about my eye and asked how it had gotten there. I had given her the same bullshit that I had given Justin except…she actually looked like she believed me as opposed to Justin - - Who **hadn't** look like he believed me very much. "Well, I'm going to go to the store and get some things for dinner – you're welcome to stay if you want to, Brian." Did I say how much I fucking love Justin's mom? Hell, I'll do anything to stay away from my father as long as possible.

"Thanks, Mrs. Taylor."

"Anytime, have fun studying."

Oh, I'm sure we will. Not. Like I really want to _read_ while I'm up in Justin's room. Jennifer leaves and Justin leads us up the stairs, down the hall and to the second door on the right, which his room. The first thing I notice about his room is how surprisingly neat it is (Like I always do when I come to his house). Aren't artist supposed to be messy and uncaring and stuff? The second thing I notice his bed. And not because it's neat. You don't need three guesses to figure out what I'm thinking about. Justin flings his book bag on his bed so I do the same and when he gets up on it and sits cross-legged, back leaning against the headboard I get up there too and sit in the middle of his bed.

Then he pops out the book and I **really** don't want to read right now.

But people don't always get what they want so we start reading…and reading…for about an hour. He reads out loud because he said he wanted to. By the end of the hour we're both lying on our backs, side by side, books held over our faces. I'm not into reading and I really don't like this story. I finally throw the book down next to me, causing Justin to cease his reading, and I look over at him, rubbing my eyes. "I'm fucking tired of reading. _Break time_." Justin smiles and places his own book down next to him, after folding the page to make sure he doesn't lose it.

He looks over at me and I can tell his awkward phase is coming on again.

"So…"

I look over at him. It's "talk time". I'm tired of him being like…**this**. It's extremely irritating. "Justin," I roll over on my side so I can face him and he does the same, looking like he knows exactly what's coming. After all, we would've talked about what happened sometime. It might as well be now. "About what happened…," His cheeks are flushing – God, he's practically begging me to kiss him right now, fucker. "I didn't mean to come onto you like that," **Lielielielie**. "So, I'm sorry." There's another lie for you. He doesn't say anything for a minute so I roll back over on my back and stare at his ceiling. Then,

"So, you're sorry for kissing me?"

Uh – _no_. I don't say anything. And he goes on.

"As in, you won't do it a-_again_?"

God, I suppose so but only because you're acting like a freaking ten-year-old. I look over at him, eyebrow raised. "I guess so." He's silent for a moment and I look back up at the ceiling, which gets pretty boring so I close my eyes. Maybe I can just fall asleep and end up not having to go back home after all. Then I feel shifting and my first thought is that he's getting off because we're both kind of awkward right now and being awkward sucks ass. Except, he's not off the bed. No, he's far from being off the bed because, and it's quite sudden, his lips are pressed softly against mine. Ok, if I had been prepared for it I'm sure I would have kissed him back immediately but, since I was far from prepared for him to kiss me, my eyes kind of flew open in surprise and I just laid there, kind of frozen.

Like a fucking idiot.

After the shock wore off, it was only a few seconds because, well, you can't be frozen for more than a few seconds if there's a gorgeous blond boy kissing you, and my lips **finally** respond. He immediately relaxes, his body half on top of mine. My hands, of their own accord I'm sure, grab the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, and gently hold him there just incase he decides he wants to flee again and, despite the fact that I should probably pull away – move slow, in one swift movement he's on his back and I'm on top of him, tongue sliding into his warm mouth and devouring him. Have you looked at him? _Anyone_ would want to devour him. He's the most edible creature on the earth.

And my cock happens to agree.

I unconsciously grind against him, my hips have a mind of their own, I'm tellin' ya and he, surprisingly, responds with a moan instead of pulling away like I thought he would have. He'll probably freak out sooner or later. I finally pull back to breathe in some much needed air, resting my forehead against the blond's forehead and staring down at his dilated eyes, swollen mouth, and flushed cheeks. "Well, well, Mr. Taylor…makin' the first moves now?" He looks completely nervously adorable but I wait for him to answer before kissing him again. "I-I'm so," Is he about to say he's sorry? Fuck that. I kiss him again, cutting him off, pinning his hands above his head with one of my own and my other hand thrusting back into his hair.

He _does_ have soft hair.

His legs wrap around my waist and bring our hard cocks together in a grinding frenzy and my lips move from his to his neck, sucking, biting, licking – everything. His head falls back, soft gasps coming out of his mouth and I really hope his mom doesn't come home anytime soon or I'll be thoroughly disappointed. And then it happens. She just has to come home. Suddenly we both here, downstairs, the front door opening and Mrs. Taylor's voice calling up to us that she's home. My mouth stops and we both stop making out like the fucking horny teenagers that we are and sigh in disappointment. Damn his mom. His legs fall from around my waist and I quickly roll off of him, eyes closed and thinking of the nastiest thing I can think to get rid of my boner.

He's probably doing the same thing.

* * *

**xxx **

JT

* * *

I hadn't meant to just kiss him like that, not that I regret it. He had just looked so…nice lying there and, before I knew what I was thinking, the decision was already made and I was kissing him. And he was kissing me back. And we were both hard, thrusting against each other and I'm sure he probably left some hickies on my neck too. Shit, he did. I hope my mom doesn't ask questions. Good thing my hair's long.

I look over at Brian from across the dinner table. It's just a quick look. But he meets my eyes and he has this look on his face. A cross between a smirk and a look of knowingness. Knowingness that, despite the fact that I had run away from him the first time he kissed, I so wanted him. I guess what happened in my bedroom earlier was a dead giveaway. I quickly look away, cheeks probably turning slightly pink and focus on eating my food. I'm starving anyway. Jennifer had waited for Craig to get home before even starting to get dinner ready.

He obviously never showed.

So, here we are having a very late dinner. It's already nine.

"Brian, you can stay _here_ if you want. It's late and by the time you finish eating your parents will probably be asleep."

I glance up at him and he looks over at me, asking me with his eyes if he can stay. What does he think? Of course he can. I nod, small smile on my face and he looks over at my mother. "Thanks, Mrs. Taylor." I'll never get over the fact that he's extremely polite compared to what he's like in school.

"No problem, you know I love it when you come over."

That makes two of us. Except I like him coming over **a lot better** now.


	6. Fight

**

* * *

**

J.T

* * *

After dinner, dad still isn't home but, really, I hadn't been expecting anything different. Brian and I helped clean the dishes – she had told us to go and that she had it but I had _insisted_ that we didn't mind helping her out. But, the real reason for my act of helpfulness was to keep Brian and I in an area where we wouldn't be totally alone. The very thought of being alone with him makes me feel extremely nervous.

Not nervous in a _bad_ way.

Nervous in a "**What if he tries to kiss me and I freak out like a scared little kid**" way.

Brian doesn't seem to mind helping my mom. Actually, he won't shut up. Making jokes with her, which is kind of good considering that she hasn't really been that happy lately so…this is good for her. Brian, I guess, is what she needs. Hell, he's what _I_ need too. Physically and mentally. If he keeps my mom like this it'll keep me sane. Like, if she's ok that I'll be ok and, at the moment, she's ok. And, me…I'm definitely ok.

Especially with Brian "accidentally" touching my hands under the water, foamy with soap. I'm so totally glad our dishwasher is broken. I smile slightly and continue washing the plate that I have when I realize it's the same plate I've been washing for, at least, ten minutes. Brian smirks over at me, "I think the plate's _clean_, Justin." I roll my eyes and send him a mock glare and place the plate on the drying rack.

"You can never be too clean."

My mom smiles.

"Since when are _you_ clean?"

I pretend I'm disappointed in her for not taking my back. "I guess I was just…distracted." **Brian's fault.** And he knows it. I can tell by the smile on my face. I hope my mom doesn't catch on. That's something she really doesn't need right now. Finding out about me on top of all her other problems, but, a part of me wishes that I could tell her. So I could talk to her about things like…Brian instead of telling Daphne everything.

_Everyone_ needs a mother to talk to.

"You _are_ an artist."

I take the dishtowel I'm drying my hands with and slap him as hard as I can with it. He only does the same thing with his own towel and soon we're dancing around the kitchen whipping each other with dishtowels while my mom is trying to get us to stop but laughing to much to get it out correctly. "Guys!" Brian hits me on my arm. Have I mentioned that I bruise insanely easily? Yeah, not too long from now there will probably be bruises everywhere. My mom finally separates us, taking both our towels away from us and demanding that we calm down with a smile on her face.

"How 'bout we watch a movie."

We both nod. How can we say no? So, she leads us out into the living room and begins searching through our movies. "Ok, boys, sit down. It's time for a chick flick." She holds up _The Notebook_. Great. I hate this movie. Well, I don't hate it. The movie's really good, actually but, should she really subject herself to such a down-right depressing movie? Before I can protest, though I know it won't do any good, Brian falls down on the couch saying that he hadn't seen it yet so, it was settled. My mom couldn't wait to show Brian the movie. Rolling my eyes, I sat down next to him, curling my legs underneath me and trying not to sit too close to Brian. He scooted over closer _anyway _so me trying didn't matter.

Then my mom's sitting next to me.

And the movie starts.

* * *

B.K

* * *

The movie was good.

I mean, for a _chick flick_, I guess. Plus, the guy is hot, which made it all the better. Except...the beard thing really had to go. As for Justin - he had looked thouroghly uninterested the entire movie and I realized that it wasn't because he didn't like it but it was because, near the last fifteen minutes of the movie, he started crying. Seriously. His mom was crying but that was to be expected. She's a mom watching a sad movie. But, I can't help but laugh at Justin, which earns me a smack on the arm and a 'shut up'. "Let me guess - you aren't crying. It's your _allergies_." He frowns over at me and reaches over for a pillow to, most likely, smack me with before Jennifer stops him.

"I don't think so. Brian, could you please get me the tissues out of the bathroom down the hall?"

How can I say no?

I nod and hurry down the hall and into the bathroom, turn on the light and begin my search for the tissues. I open the cabinet under the bathroom sink and dig through and find the tissues. I also find a bottle of medicine prescribed to **'Jennifer Taylor' **and, my curiosity getting the best of me, I see what they're for. Depression. I quickly put the bottle back where I found it and quickly escape the bathroom. I wonder if _Justin _knows that she's taking medicine for her depression. I wonder _why _she's taking the medicine in the first place. She had seemed perfectly fine tonight, maybe a little...disappointed that her husband hadn't showed up for dinner but other than that, she had been happy. Than again, what do I know?

As I'm making my way back down the hall I here the front door slam open.

When I round the corner my eyes land on a man. A man who doesn't look too friendly. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is in dissray, and, to put it lightly, he doesn't look too good at the moment. Mr. Taylor also doesn't look anything like his father, which is a **great **thing. I stop, not really sure what to do since when he got site of me he sent me a look of pure dislike. He doesn't even know me and he already...hates me by the looks of it. He turns back to Jennifer and Justin who were now off the couch, Justin looking particuraly uncomfortable. Jennifer looked slightly hopeful, _very _slighty. The man held up his hand waving a white envolope in his hand. Justin of recognized it because, now, he looked completely horrified. And pissed.

"What the hell is **this**?"

"Who the hell is _that_?"

Yeah, it's safe to say he doesn't like me. I stand there kind of awkwardly with the box of tissues in my hands. Mr. Taylor soon dismisses me and turns all his attention on his wife and son, stepping closer to Justin with his clenched hand still wrapped around the envelope. Justin swallows, I can practically hear his gulp all the way over here and reaches out to take the letter out of his father's hand, which the man, of course, doesn't allow. He pulls the letter back to hold it out of reach. Justin sighs, looking more and more troubled by the second. "That's Brian. He's a friend from school." His mom quickly jumps in, worried expression on her face.

"They were working on a project together. He's spending the night. Actually, they were just about to go to bed."

It's obviously a hint for Justin and I to exit. And I'm all for it 'cause this guy doesn't look too friendly at the moment but, it looks like Justin has entirely different plans.

"Why the hell do you have _my _mail?"

The man, I think, at one point, Justin had mentioned that his name was Craig or something, looked down at the envelope and slowly began opening it, look of pure disgust and disbelief on his face. "It's a good thing I _do _have your mail. I don't know what you were thinking - applying here. At some..._fag _institute." Justin steps foward, even manages to grab a hold of the paper that Craig pulls out of the envelope but Craig manages to get it out of his grip, unfolding it and reading it, looking more and more disgusted as the seconds ticked by. Shit - what am I supposed to do. Am I supposed to be witnessing all of this?

I guess it's no different at my house, though.

Except I would have a broken nose by now.

"Give me the fucking-"

"Don't talk to me like that. No respect at all."

He looks back at the letter, "Justin Taylor - we are pleased to accept you into Pittsburgh's Institute of Fine Arts..." He stops reading for a moment, shaking his head and rubbing his temple with his thumb and index finger and then he looks back down at the text. "We've discussed this time and time again, Justin. You're going to Dartmouth. You're going to take over the business. You're going to become sucessful. You're not going to become some poor, worthless, faerie tramping around painting pretty pictures." Justin looks closed to tears and, if I had to guess, they're probably tears of anger more than sadness. And he also looks about to swing a punch at the man. Jennifer hasn't said anything but she's watching in tears. This must be why she takes pills. Hell, I can't believe Justin's not taking medicine. At least, I _hope _he's not.

"_Give it to me_."

He sounds desperate now. Jennifer steps foward, finally. "Craig, we'll talk about this later. Just give it to him. Please." She sounds even more desperate. If I was Justin I would have hurt somebody by now. Craig takes the letter, folds it neatly, and stuffs it in the pocket of his pants. "There's no point in giving it to him, Jennifer. He's not going." He looks back at me and looks as if he's just noticed me for the first time. "Who is this again? Is it one of your homo friends?" I hold back the urge to snap at him, say something that I know I'll probably regret later because it'll probably get Justin in trouble. I look over at Justin who looks ready to explode, the wetness in his eyes as obvious as obvious can get. I swallow down harsh words and try to unclench my hand around the tissue box.

"His name's Brian. Justin's friend. They're going to bed."

"_Together_?"

Justin's beyond furious now. "Fuck you." I'm glad someone finally said it. Before I have time to even think about the horrified look on Craig's face, Justin is grabbing my wrist and he's dragging me down the hall, up the stairs and into his bedroom and locking the door. I stand there in the middle of his floor watching him through the dim lighting that only the moon is providing at the moment. "I-I'm sorry about that." He moves past me, doesn't even look at me as if he's ashamed about something but I don't know what it could be, and he sits down on the edge of his bed, face in the palms of his hands. I sit down next to him, box of tissues in my lap. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. He's just an asshole."

"I didn't want you to _see_."

"See what?"

That he doesn't have a perfect life? Big deal.

"Me cry."

Before I can reply, "You probably think I'm a huge baby right now." I slide my arm across his shoulders and pull him closer to me, his head resting just below my chin and his hands clinging onto my shirt and I have a feeling that he's finally letting out his tears. I can feel the wetness on my shirt reaching my skin. "I think you're a baby all the time, Sunshine. You're so _immature_." He chuckles slightly, pulling his face away from my body and quickly using the back of his hand to wipe the tears off of his face. He looks back over at me with a slightly sad expression on his face. "I don't want to go to Dartmouth."

"You don't have to."

"My fath-"

"Can't control your life."

He stays silent and I gently grab his neck and make him look at me.

"Are you alright?"

"I guess...yeah...right _now_."

I lean over and kiss him, gently parting his lips with my tongue. Things quickly become heated, his body underneath mine, legs wrapped around my waist and his hands around me and gripping tightly onto the back of my shirt. I move slowly, slower than I'm used to moving with hot men, because of the emotional state he's in. I don't want either of us to feel like I'm taking advantage of that by going in and out in as quickly as possible. Plus, I want to make every second of this last and seem longer than a second. Plus, he's not some random guy I met on the street. He's my best-friend, we know each other on a personal level already and I don't have the _need_, or even the _want_, to treat him like some random trick. I don't want to ruin anything.

My hand wraps around his clothed cock earning me a moan of satisfaction. I remove my hand while my other hand teases his nipples underneath his shirt. I take my other hand and slide the button of his pants out of the hole and he tells me the dreaded words to stop. It's just a gaspy whimper against my lips. I remove my hand and pull my mouth from his and stare down at him questioningly. He looks completely edible - lips swollen and shiny from our saliva, breathless, cheeks pink and just..._yeah_, _edible_. "What?" I expect him to say something like, 'should we really do this since my parents are home' or 'are you sure you want to screw me' but never,

"**I-I can't. I'm not ready**."


	7. Worry

**

* * *

**

**BK

* * *

**

"_I-I can't. I'm not ready."_

I really want to cry right now. Or maybe strangle the blond underneath me. Or be a drama queen and storm out of the house so that, maybe, he'll feel bad. But, I don't do any of those things. Instead, I let out a **long** disappointed slash sexually frustrated sigh. He has got to be kidding me.

"What?"

"I-I'm sorry - - I just…_can't_."

Why the hell does he sound like he's about to cry? I'm the one who should be in tears right now. But I can't make him have sex with me. I'm not into the whole forcing thing. Unless…he wants me to be forceful but I know that that is totally not the case. I rest my forehead against his letting out another sigh. "It's alright, Sunshine." Even though it's not. I'm gonna be horny all night now. His legs fall off from around my waist and I take this as my queue to get off of him so, and quite sadly I might add, I do.

But I don't get off the bed.

"Br-Brian?"

I turn over so that I'm facing him.

He looks like he has committed the worst crime on the planet.

In a way – he **has**.

"I really am-"

"It's alright – really."

Not really. I'm so hard right now. He bites at his bottom lip making himself look like the sorriest person on the planet, which, strangely, makes me even harder. Offering the best smile that I can at a moment like this, I move closer to him and press my mouth against his. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer to my body, really having no intent on having sex with him since he made it clear that he wasn't ready but, at least, he was letting me make out with him.

"I-I'm just scared."

"Well, I guess we're all a little scared our first time."

He leans over and kisses me, long and slow before pulling back. His arms stay wrapped around me and a few minutes later he's asleep looking considerably better than he had a minute ago. I try to go to sleep. But…that's really hard when all you have in your mind are dirty images that keep you hard all night.

But, _somehow_, eventually - - I fall asleep too.

* * *

**JT

* * *

**

I feel like such a pathetic little virgin.

_Christ_ – I am a pathetic little virgin!

I try to get dressed without waking him up 'cause I'm really not ready to face him yet. Not after me being…like I was last night. Plus, he looks really peaceful when he's sleeping. Beautiful, even, though I don't think I could tell him that. So, I stop moving around for clothes to change into and get out my sketchbook instead and grab a pencil.

And, like anytime I start drawing something that inspires me, I'm in another world.

A "Beautiful Brian Kinney" kinda a world.

I don't know how long I've been drawing but when his eyes finally open I snap my sketchbook shut before he can realize what, exactly, I am doing. He probably wouldn't mind that I was drawing him, but…I'm not exactly sure of that either. It takes him a few minutes to actually be awake and when he is awake my heart starts to pound. He wasn't exactly pissed last night but he might be pissed _now_. He watches me for a minute, neither of saying anything and I'm relieved to see that he doesn't look pissed.

"How long have you been awake?"

I shrug. 'Cause I'm really not sure.

"I-I don't know. A while, I guess."

"What's that?"

He nods towards the sketchbook in my lap and I immediately get up out of my chair to put it somewhere safe. "It's nothing." He's immediately off the bed, standing in my way and grabbing it out of my hand and holding it out of my reach as he goes through the pages. "Brian! Really, it's nothing, it's just-" Then he gets to the picture that's him and there isn't really a point in asking him to stop looking now. He's already on the picture that I didn't want him to see. It's not that it's bad – It's the best work that I've ever done…probably because he's the best thing I've drawn ever – but…I don't know.

"Did you just do this?"

I'm totally aware that I look like a stalker freak _and_ that I'm blushing.

"Uh – yes?"

"I'm really fucking hot."

He smiles at me and I laugh slightly, snatching it out of his hand and snapping it shut again. I quickly put it away in my desk and hope that I'm not blushing anymore. That's definitely a false hope, right there.

"No wonder you got accepted."

"W-what?"

"To _PIFA_."

Just the very mention of PIFA makes me feel sick to my stomach. I shrug. "Thanks…but it doesn't matter. My father wants-" Brian rolls his eyes and grabs the back of my head so that I'm looking at him and only him. "No one gives a flying fuck about what your _dad_ wants. It's about what you want. That's the only thing you should care about. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He doesn't release the back of my head – instead his other arm moves around my waist and he's pulling me against him and kissing me hard and needy, fast and impatient although we both know that I'm not ready to go any further than this. Though, he doesn't really seem to mind at the moment.

"I'm such a _loser_, Daphne!"

After Brian left my house Saturday afternoon the first thing I did was ask my mom to take me to Daphne's house. My father wasn't there when I woke up and, I'm assuming, he either left last night after our little fight or just really early this morning. Either way, I wasn't about to ask my mom and neither of us mentioned what happened last night. Neither of us **wanted** to.

Daphne stares at me. I can tell that she's trying really hard not to laugh in my face.

"Go ahead, Daph, just _laugh_ already."

And she does, laughing like it's the most hilarious thing she's ever heard in her life. When she does stop laughing she actually manages to look sympathetic.

"**Poor Justin**. The boy who'll remain a virgin his _entire_ life."

"Shut up."

She does; for about five point two seconds.

"So, were things _awkward_ this morning?"

"No, he was nice about it."

"God, you suck. I'd jump at the chance for him to fuck _me_."

I roll my eyes; the very thought of them having sex grossing me out. "Gross, Daph! You're sick." She only shrugs, smile on her face. "I'm only saying that you totally passed out on an _amazingly hot_ opportunity." I shrug, fingering my hair and biting at my bottom lip. She sighs. Heavily. God, she's almost as sad as I am that I haven't had sex with him yet. Sheesh.

"You _are_ going to, right?"

"He said whenever I was ready to let him know."

I'm sure I'm blushing really bad right now.

"He _said_ that?"

"_Yes_, right before we dropped him off at home."

"He's the perfect guy for me."

"He's gay, retard."

"Well…except for that little loophole. I could always get him really, really drunk."

"No matter how drunk you get him – I don't think he'd ever fuck pussy."

"Justin!"

She looks at me, astounded for some reason. I raise an eyebrow.

"You said the word pussy."

"…_So_?"

She suddenly smiles.

"Maybe you'll get laid after all."

I have no idea what the hell this has to do with saying the word, 'pussy', but whatever.

I'd be lying if I said I _wasn't_ nervous when I walked into school Monday morning. I haven't talked to Brian since he left Saturday afternoon and I can't help but think that he might be…I don't know…something…around me today. Will he make fun of me for being a scared little virgin? Will he be like he was at my house – kind and understanding? Or would he act like nothing even happened; act like we didn't make out on my bed. Act like he didn't make me feel better when I was crying like a baby.

Daphne tells me to shut up and that I'm just paranoid.

I suppose that she's right.

So when Brian doesn't show up for first period I relax. **Immensely**. And, let's just say that I'm perfectly relaxed the entire day because…he doesn't show up at all – which, I suppose, is kind of weird. I mean, he was fine when he left my house and he never gets sick. So then, of course, I wonder if he's alright. If something happened to him. Daphne tells me that I'm retarded. "It's not a big deal if he misses a day of school. If you're so _worried_ then call him when you get home."

She has a point.

So…that's what I do. As soon as I throw myself on my bed I grab the phone. It rings six times and I'm about to hang up when it suddenly clicks and an unpleasant woman says, "Hello?" God, she sounds really unpleasant. I wonder if it's Brian's mother. Duh – who _else_ could it be? "Uh – is Brian there?" There's a pause and then I hear the woman calling for Brian to get the fucking phone. Yeah, she's _definitely_ the unpleasant type.

"Hello?"

He doesn't exactly sound right. Something in his voice is off.

"Brian?"

"Justin."

Shit – I don't even know what to say. I don't know how long I was silent but it was long enough 'cause, soon, he's saying my name. "W-what?" He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "Are you alright, Justin?" There's still something off about the way he's talking to me and it only makes me more worried about him…but why should I be worried? He's probably perfectly fine. Maybe he _did_ get sick.

"O-Oh, I'm fine. I was just wondering…where you were today…I was just worried, I guess, when you didn't show up and I was just…wondering where you…were…"

I only, like, repeated myself a _million_ times.

He chuckles and I bet he thinks I'm such a loser.

"I'm fine. I just…didn't feel good today."

He is so full of shit. And I tell him so.

"What makes you think that?"

"I can tell when you're _lying_, Brian."

"I just think you're way too…_worrisome_."

"Are you sure everything's alright?"

He sighs heavily into the phone. I suddenly hear the woman's voice yelling at him to get off the phone. I think I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone but I'm not exactly sure. "Everything's fine, Justin. I have to go."

He hangs up before I even have a chance to say bye.


	8. Helpfulness

**

* * *

**

**JT

* * *

**

He isn't at school Tuesday either.

Not at first anyway and I can't help but be even _more_ worried. In third period I rudely push Derek out of his chair – though that might not be the smartest thing considering Daphne and I made up right before I told her what happened on Saturday and she might still be a little sore about anything having to do with Derek but…whatever – and sit there myself. Daphne is my best friend and I have to talk to her. She has all her life to screw around with Derek. For Christ's sakes, I'm only asking for one period.

"That was _rude_, Justin!"

"I don't care. I need to talk to you."

"You could have just asked him to _please_ move."

I roll my eyes. Derek really, really has to go.

"He'll get over it, Daphne."

"Still, you could have-"

"Will you just _shut up_?"

I never talk to her that way. Sure, I do in a joking manner but this was in no joking manner. It was done in a pissed off, please shut the fuck up, manner. A manner that Daphne definitely didn't like one little bit. I can tell by the look on her face, but she actually does shut up so I plow on even though she probably won't care.

"I think there's something wrong with Brian."

She rolls her eyes.

See? I knew she wouldn't care.

"Why, Justin?"

She's just doing it to humor me, I know.

"I called him last night like you told me to. He didn't sound right. He sounded…I don't know. Like something was wrong."

Daphne sighs and shakes her head. "You're just being paranoid." I don't agree. "I have nothing to be paranoid about! There's something-" She cuts me off with a look of annoyance. She has been getting annoyed easier lately, I swear. Girls. Thank God I'm a fag. "There's nothing wrong with him, Justin. Let it go. Maybe he was just in a bad mood. Maybe he was _sick_. You need to…**relax**." She just doesn't understand. Then again…maybe she's right.

Sighing, I get up. I don't really want to sit next to her right now anyway. She's still slightly pissed about me pushing her precious boyfriend away. As soon as I'm out of the seat he moves into it and I sit at my usual table behind hers. I mentally curse at the empty seat next to me; the empty seat where Brian is usually seated. Sighing, I fold my arms on my desk and lay my face down. I don't feel like paying attention. Not that I can anyway, what with worrying about my…_whatever_ the fuck he is. I don't know _what_ to classify us as.

Suddenly there's a tap on my shoulder.

I don't lift my head up to see who it is. Honestly, I don't even _care_.

"What?"

"Why ya lookin' so glum, Sunshine?"

This time I do lift my head up to see who it is because it's Brian. Why wouldn't I? Perhaps my smile is too big but I don't even have time to be embarrassed about it because I'm suddenly too busy staring in horror at Brian's face. "Brian." He raises an eyebrow and smiles; the small movement manages to make him wince, even if it is just slightly. A wince is a wince, though.

"Don't sound too happy to see me."

"Brian, what _happened_ to you?"

He doesn't answer at first. Shit, is he limping? I'm not exactly sure but it wouldn't surprise me. He has bruises everywhere I can see, which is just his face but he's wearing a long sleeved shirt today _and_ it's hot outside. There must be bruises there too. His face, though, _fuck_. He's still beautiful but – ouch. I watch as he sits down, more careful then usual. When I get the hint that he isn't going to answer me I turn around in my seat so that I'm facing him.

"Who _did_ this?"

I look over at Daphne who looks just as shocked as am. I send her a look that blatantly said "I told you so". Sure, it's immature but I really don't care! I look back at Brian and I can tell he's doing everything he can to ignore me. Asshole.

"Brian – _look_ at me."

"Mr. Taylor, please be quiet and pay attention."

Feeling put out – not for being scolded by the teacher but because Brian's pretty much ignoring me when there's clearly something wrong – I turn back around in my seat. I face the front of the class but there's no fucking way that I'm paying attention. Not with Brian sitting next to me looking like _that_. He avoids me the rest of the day. Well, my questions. He sits next to me in every class and makes small talk. But, whenever I say anything about him being hurt he closes up and doesn't say a word. I swear I'm going insane.

After seventh period I head straight to his locker.

He left seventh period early stating that he had to use the restroom. I'm not sure where he really went but I plan on finding out. Hopefully he didn't leave the school. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that whoever did those things to him was someone in his own home and, honestly, I don't want him going back there. Not right now. Not until he actually tells me what the hell is going on. I mean, I may not have the right to know but, in my mind, I have every damn right. We're best friends. Aren't I supposed to know things like this?

I stand, lean up against his locker for, at least, twenty minutes.

Then Chris just has to appear with his football buddies. Shit.

"Hey, Taylor! Waiting for your _boyfriend_?"

I don't say anything. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut anyway. Plus, Brian isn't here this time to protect me. God, where the hell is he? It's gonna be really hard to keep my mouth shut. The boys headed over and I prayed that I would keep my mouth shut. Prayed like a fucking maniac. It isn't that I'm scared of Chris and his jock friends…ok, yeah, I'm scared of them. I mean, they're huge and then there's me. I'm short. And small. And fragile compared to them. And alone since Brian picked the **perfect** time to disappear.

"What, Taylor? You can't talk anymore?"

I just shake my head, pressing myself tightly against the row of lockers to stay away from them as much as I can, which, I suppose, is kind of pointless considering that they have me, pretty much, cornered. The jocks laugh, though I don't know why. They're just fucking insane. I swallow and look around, hoping that Brian will just…show up. He doesn't so I look back at Chris, his taller and bigger form towering over little ol' me. Shitshitshitshit. I am so screwed! Suddenly, Chris is grabbing the front of my shirt and they're all dragging me away from Brian's locker and to a different row of lockers.

Shit – I know what's happening.

The first day of school all over again.

One of them has a hand over my mouth or I'd be screaming bloody murder but, just like last time, Chris manages to shove me inside a locker. I think it's his. It's empty and I'm cramped as hell.

"Bye, faggot!"

"Fuck you, asshole!"

At least they can't get to me now. They don't reply and their laughing fades until I can't hear it any longer. Groaning, I shift as much as I can so I can reach into my pocket and dig out my cell phone. I guess I should have done this earlier when I was waiting for Brian. Then again…he'd probably ignore me and not pick up anyway. Sighing, and hoping that he picks up, I dial his number and hold the phone up to my ear, which is awfully hard to do in a small locker like this.

It rings five times, I'm starting to lose hope, and he finally picks up.

"Justin."

But he doesn't sound too happy. He probably thinks I'm gonna start asking him questions again. "Brian, I'm so fucking glad you picked up. I was waiting for you by your locker but then Chris came and-"

"What'd he do to you?"

He sounds concerned now, which gives me this odd warm feeling inside.

"I'm getting to that. So, Chris and a few of his buddies come along and start taunting to me. Brian! You would have been so proud of me. I didn't talk back or anything and-"

"Sunshine, you're getting off track. What'd he do to you?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Well, they all grabbed me and shoved me into a locker like on the first day of school…except you aren't here to get me out are you? Shit! I don't even know what the combination is for this fucking thing. Oh god, I'm going to start panicking. Shit! I think I'm claustrophobic. I didn't even know I was claustrophobic! Fuck, Brian! I'm gonna die and-"

"Justin, Justin, just calm down. You aren't going to die. I'll be inside in a few minutes. It's ok."

"It's not ok! I can't even breathe in here and-"

God, I'm freaking out. And he's laughing on the other end of the phone.

"Shut up, Justin! Just breathe. In and out. You just need to calm down. I'll be right there. Do you know what the locker number is?"

Hell no!

"Oh, shit, no! You're never gonna find me now!"

"Sunshine, I'll find you. For one, you're practically screaming so I'll hear you and secondly, there aren't that many lockers near my locker. So, relax _darlin'_."

Ha. **Real cute** with the western accent and everything.

"S-Sorry."

"Ok. I'm in the building, Sunshine."

A minute passes.

"I can see my locker. - I'm in front of my locker. Now scream like you were doing earlier."

"I was not screaming."

"Fine, freak out like you were earlier."

Honestly, I'm still freaking out. My hearts beating painfully fast and I seriously do feel extremely claustrophobic. I start kicking the door with my foot and make some seriously loud noise, which doesn't help my already frayed and tense nerves. "Ok, that's good, Justin. I'm here." I hang up 'cause I see his form outside the locker through the little slits.

"Thank fucking god. Where the hell _were_ you?"

He doesn't answer me. He tells me to shut up so he can concentrate on picking the lock. I clamp my mouth shut. I don't want to stay in here any longer than necessary. It takes about fives minutes for him to finally get it but it felt like an eternity. As soon as the door swings open I throw myself at him, on purpose, and wrap my arms around his neck. I almost kiss him but I decided against it since he has so many bruises on his face. Then I realize that it would probably be a bad idea anyway since we're at a public place.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

He's laughing at me again but I don't care. For one, his arms are wrapped around me, which is very comforting, and I'm just happy to be out of the damn locker.

"Yeah, no problem."

"God, you're my hero."

"I'm _every_ gay boy's hero."

I roll my eyes and push myself away from him. "God, I could kiss you right now." He smiles and shrugs, stepping a few steps closer. "Then…Why _don't_ you? I wouldn't mind." He does look tempting, even with all those bruises on his face and mouth. But…we're in school! Anyone can walk by! Anything can happen! Plus, it'd probably hurt him. Kissing, I mean. His mouth does have a huge bruise on it and…yeah. I swallow and quickly shake my head.

"I don't think so."

"What? Why?"

He actually sounds truly disappointed.

I sigh – heavily.

"Well, we're in school and…someone could see. And…and…it'd probably hurt you."

He shoots me a weird look.

"_What_? Sunshine, when you kiss you aren't exactly _rough_ about it."

He probably said that on purpose. Just to make my cheeks turn pink. I'm already having a hard enough time explaining this to him. Difficult fucker. He steps closer so that we're almost touching and I'm suddenly very, very hot.

"I-I know…t-that's not what I _meant_."

He steps impossibly closer and we're touching and, oh fucking god. I blink and continue to stare up at him trying to ignore everything else that's going on involving my body and his body at the moment. "Then…what'd you mean?" He raises an eyebrow and I wonder if it hurts for him to do that. Sighing, I step back as much as possible without ending up inside the locker again.

"Look at yourself, Brian! I mean, you have a huge bruise on your mouth and I don't want to make anything worse and-"

He cuts me off by holding a hand to my mouth.

"I don't think you could make anything worse if you _tried_."


	9. Apologizing

**bloodmoon15:** Yes, there will be sex. Lol.

THANKS FOR ALL MY REVIEWS SO FAR. THEY'RE SO AWESOME.

* * *

**JT

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**

"A-and, plus, we're at _school_."

I take a step back and if I take another I'll probably end up inside the locker again. He shrugs; steps forward and covers the very short distance between us. "There's no one here right _now_." I swallow and decide not to answer because, honestly, I have no idea what to say. He grins, though again, the very action looks like it hurts. I can tell. "See!" He raises an eyebrow and looks at me like I'm insane.

"What?"

"It hurts you to even move your face. There's no way I'm _kissing_ you."

"Then…can I kiss you?"

I cover my face with my hand and gently push him away with my hand and scoot away from the open locker. "No." He takes my hand away from my pink face and pins me up against the, now closed, locker. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"_Why_?"

Is he whining? That's a first.

"_Because_ – we're in a public place."

"Let's go to your place."

"Not until you answer my questions."

The look on his face shows that he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Let me guess – your sister accidentally threw something at you again. Multiple times." He shakes his head, irritated look on his face. I sigh, "Why can't you just tell me? Don't you trust me? We're friends. We're _supposed_ to tell each other things."

"Just like you tell me about your problems. Incase you didn't notice, you don't tell me shit that's going on in _your_ life either."

"Yeah, well, my parents aren't _beating_ me!"

His mouth clamps shut and he takes a few steps away from me. "I have to go home." Before he can leave I reach out and grab his wrist. "You call that place home?" He pulls his arm out of my grasp. "You don't know what the hell you're even talking about." I grab his wrist again. There's no way he's going back there. Not right now anyway. "I do know that you're getting hurt going to your so called _home_."

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"Let _go_ of me."

Of course I don't. "Please, just come with me instead. Spend the night. My mom won't mind." He pulls away from me. "I have to go." This time I don't bother grabbing him because it's obvious that he doesn't want to go home with me because that'd be admitting that he actually needs help. Bastard.

"Fuck you, Brian."

* * *

**BK

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**

I know I've pretty much been an ass all day.

But…there's no way I'm just going to come out and tell Justin all of my problems – even if he does have a super good idea of what's really going on. He doesn't need to hear it from me. He doesn't need to hear anything at all. I can just continue lying, which is a perfectly waste of time, and that's that. I don't want or need him worrying about me, although, it's probably too late for that, because he has his own problems to worry about. He doesn't need my luggage on top of that.

Though, he's already carrying my luggage by the looks of it.

I don't go straight home. I'm not that stupid, though, I'm pretty stupid not to go home with Justin, which is a lot more pain-free than going to _my_ house.

Instead of going to my house, I walk.

Not really in any direction – I just walk and end up in a small kiddy park about an hour away from our school. And that's only if you're driving. I have no idea how long I've been walking. A look down at my watch tells me about two hours and I guess I was walking really slowly. Hey, _anything_ to prolong my freedom before being condemned to hell. Sighing, I sit down on a nearby bench. There's no one out playing. In fact, there's no one here but me. Lucky me.

Maybe I should go to Justin's house.

Sure, he's extremely pissed at me right now but I know he'd welcome me into his house with open arms and his bright little smile. It's not like my parents would care if I didn't show up tonight without as much as a call to tell them where I am. Well, dad might miss his punching bag but I'm sure he'll get over it. I continue to sit there. If I go to Justin's house he'll know that he's ultimately right and that I'm wrong for not letting him help me in the first place. I _hate_ being wrong.

"Hey, stranger."

Shit. Fuck. She scared the hell out of me. I look over my shoulder only to see Daphne standing there smiling at me.

"You scared the hell out of me. Do you usually follow people around and spy on them?"

"Yeah, usually."

She sits down next to me with a heavy sigh.

"What are you doing here?"

She shrugs and I roll my eyes. I know she didn't just happen to show up at the exact moment I'm here. I know she doesn't usually play on little kid playgrounds. Or any playgrounds for _that_ matter. "Liar." She smiles and nods. "That I am."

"The first step is admitting it."

"I'm here because Justin called me all upset,"

Oh, great.

"And I happened to be in Mr. Cato's room getting some assignments from him when he called. And I followed you because you are _such_ an asshole."

"Gee, _thanks_, Daphne."

"You're welcome."

"So, why'd you follow me?"

"He's only _worried_ about you, you know."

I roll my eyes. Thanks for the newsflash.

"He shouldn't be. I'm fine."

"Yeah, I can tell."

"I didn't ask for your sarcasm."

She isn't smiling anymore and she lets out a heavy, probably irritated too, sigh. "I'm worried about you too. He thought there was something wrong with you – I didn't. But, by the looks of it, there's _definitely_ something wrong." I glare over at her. "Nothing is wrong. **Nothing**." This time it's her turn to roll her eyes because we both know that I'm full of shit. "You're a shitty liar."

"Maybe we should start a club."

"Very funny. Why can't you just _admit_ you need help?"

I shake my head. She's not going to give up on this. Me. Not until I give her the answers she wants.

"I don't need help."

"Look at yourself. I wouldn't be surprised if your father ended up killing you sooner or later…and you think you don't need help?"

"You've always been the blunt type, Daphne."

"Yeah, just like you."

"_Wow_, we're both blunt and shitty liars. We're meant to be."

She's getting annoyed. I can tell by the look on her face. Sighing, she pushes her hair out of her face and shoots me "the look": The Look of Doom. I'm surprised she hasn't killed me yet. "It doesn't make you weak to ask for help, you know." I don't answer. I'm done answering. What does she want from me? To start crying all over her clothes so that she can see what a huge baby I am. Nope, not gonna happen.

"You're weak for not asking for help."

I roll my eyes. I wonder if she's almost done.

"Just…at least go over to his house tonight. It'll make _him_ feel better even if it doesn't make _you_ feel better…and, quite frankly, I don't care if you feel good about it or not."

She stands up off the bench, brushing her jeans off even though there's nothing on them. She sighs down at me.

"You wanna ride?"

"How can I say no after a nice chat like that?"

"C'mon, asshole."

And, just so she won't slit my throat, I follow her.

"Here we are."

I don't get out of her car immediately. "Get out of my fucking car before I castrate you. And you better go into his house. I'll run you over if you try to make a run for it." I quickly undo my seatbelt because there's no way I'm letting her get a hold of my cock. She should be so lucky. "Thanks for the lift…" I hurry out of the car, sling my book bag on my shoulder and head up the path and then knock on the front door. Daphne's car is still sitting, waiting. God, she's mental sometimes.

She was _serious_ when she said she'd run me over.

The door slowly swings open and there's Justin on the phone with someone. He's kind of surprised to see me and I guess I don't blame him. I mean, I did say I wasn't going to come over. "I'll call you back in a few minutes, mom." He quickly hangs up the phone. "What are you doing here?" He doesn't sound angry, exactly. Maybe a little confused and wary about letting me in, which, I guess, isn't a big surprise.

"You _invited_ me."

"And I recall you saying 'no way.'"

"I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Are you going to let me in or not? I can just leave."

Though, I can't, not really. Daphne will run me over after all. Sighing, he steps aside and I hear Daphne's car drive away. Justin shuts the door behind me and then locks it. I set my bag down on the floor and turn around to look at him. To see how he's going to react to me being here. "You didn't go," I shake my head, cutting him off. "No, I didn't go home. Daphne kidnapped me and took me here." He smiles slightly but it doesn't last long. "Why are you here?"

"I just told you why."

"You didn't have to come. She wouldn't _really_ murder you."

"You want me here don't you?"

"I _guess_ so."

I raise an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" He smiles slightly, "_Yes_, I _want_ you here, even if you are an asshole." I roll my eyes. Him and Daphne both. God almighty.

"Look, I'm,"

Shit. I actually have to say this. Dammit.

"You're what?"

"Sorry for being an asshole."

"You can go upstairs. I need to call my mom back."

That's it? I think I should at least get some lip action for actually saying that I was sorry. But, I don't say so. I pick up my bag and head upstairs to his room. I shut the door behind me and throw my bag down next to where his is sitting and get up onto his bed, which, of course, forces my mind to have many thoughts. All of them are bad. I hate his bed. It only makes me want him more and I know I can't have him.

And that really pisses me off.


	10. Tears

**

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**

**BK

* * *

**

He comes up about five minutes later and I can't help but wonder if he's going to still be angry with me. Hell, _I'd_ be angry with me. He doesn't say anything for a moment and I just sit there in the middle of his bed waiting. I watch as he does a few things: gets some clothes off the floor and throws them in his hamper, slips a few papers into his book bag; random things like that and then I start to get bored. Anxious. Fucking tired of waiting.

"I'm here you know."

"I know."

"You're ignoring me."

"I know."

There's a smile in his voice. I'm tempted to get off the bed and go over there and force him against a wall but…no, I can't do that. He would kill me if I jumped on him like that – probably. He stops doing stupid random 'ignoring Brian' things and sits down on the edge of the bed. Or maybe instead of forcing him against a wall I can force him on his back – on his bed. Obviously, that wouldn't work out. He's probably still thinking about giving me the third degree.

"What'd you talk to your mother about?"

So, I talk about his mom instead.

"She's gonna be home late. She has a meeting at work."

So…that means we have the entire house to _ourselves_?

"How late?"

"She's not sure but…she said my dad would probably be home early."

Oh, great. So we don't. And we have to spend it with that bastard. He speaks again, his voice slightly hopeful.

"But…early for him could be, like, _midnight_."

"Why would he be home early anyway?"

Justin shrugs and he looks slightly down at the idea of his father coming home period. I scoot over to the edge of the bed. This would be the perfect time to make him feel better with my 'make Justin feel better make out' techniques. Then again, I wouldn't want him to feel as if I was taking advantage of him and…he wouldn't kiss me anyway. He's still probably being anal about hurting my face, though, it seriously wouldn't hurt. Hell, it'd probably make it feel _better_.

I cautiously place a hand on his shoulder.

"Give me the third degree. It'll make you feel better."

He smiles over at me, worried and down expression immediately gone. See? I'm so fucking good it's not even funny.

"I won't give you the third degree."

"Oh, but _why_?"

"Because you caved and apologized."

"It's about time that you acknowledged that fact. I didn't get a kiss or anything."

Still smiling, he leans over, his head slightly cocked to the side as if he's going to actually cave in, himself, and kiss me and just as I move forward to do so he pulls back, amused smile on his face. I sigh, exasperated and flop down on my back acting as if what he had done had been excruciatingly irritating. In a way, it is because I want him _so fucking bad_. He flops down next to me, arm gently resting on my chest and pulling himself against my side.

"Is this ok?"

"I'm _fine_, Justin."

"Just making sure."

"Why don't you tell anybody?"

I obviously can't tell him to mind his own business. I mean, I'm in his house. Plus, it doesn't seem to be working anyway. "Because I don't." He sighs, heavily, and shifts so that my arm is under his head and his head is just under my chin. The hand on my chest begins to move, fingers stroking up and down. If it had been anyone else I would've thought they were doing it on purpose – just to sexually frustrate me by touching me as much as possible but…this is Justin. And he's…**innocent**.

"Why didn't you tell _me_?"

"Why didn't you tell me about your father?"

"Because there's nothing to tell."

"I still would have liked to know that the asshole was, well, being an _asshole_."

He sighs again, his fingers stop, and he lifts off of me, holding himself up on his side. "Stop talking about me and talk about you. I would have liked to know that…_this_ was going on." We just simply stare at each other for a few moments. Neither of us wavers. He's a stubborn bastard. And, I guess, I am too. I'm the first to blink and look away, heavily sighing, sitting halfway up with both my elbows supporting my weight.

"I'll admit to everything if you kiss me."

* * *

**JT

* * *

**

He's a clever bastard.

Not that I _don't_ want to kiss him. I very much want to. I've wanted to since the first time I saw him, I guess and ever since we kissed that first time, well, my desire has increased, I'll admit. I stare at him for a moment and then look up at my ceiling, sighing like it's the most horrible offer that's ever been made. He raises an eyebrow as if I'm stupid for not jumping at the opportunity. I smile slightly and sigh, letting him know that I give in.

I would have sooner or later _anyway_.

"I guess."

He grins triumphantly.

"You act like it's torture."

I smile and shrug.

"Let's get this over with."

He shakes his head, "Am I that bad?"

"No, you're extremely good. I just hate being bribed."

"I _know _I'm extremely good. And _I _hate not being kissed by hot blonds that I'm sitting next to on their bed."

I feel my cheeks heat up just slighty but I try and gain my composure by rolling my eyes. "Will you just kiss me already?"

"I said you had to kiss me."

"Oh, fine."

He meets my mouth halfway and he immediately presses his body down on mine, pinning me down on the bed. His hands hold my wrists up next to my head as he all but devours me. A few seconds later his legs are on either side of me, his cock is grinding against mine, and his mouth is on my neck. "_Brian_!" I know I'm being stupid – actually trying to stop this because, well, I can't deny what my body wants but…I have to. I finally manage to convince my arms to pry out of Brian's hands and push him away, completely breathless. He smiles, satisfied.

"You said kiss – not _ravage_."

He doesn't say anything.

"Now, spill, Kinney."

I cross my arms over my chest and scoot myself to the very end of the bed so he won't be able to tempt me as easily. He smirks at this but stays put, which, in its self, is very surprising. He leans back against the headboard and, I swear, he could make a profession out of lounging. I bet no one can lounge as good as he can.

"My mother's a frigid bitch and my father beats me. _The end_."

* * *

**BK

* * *

**

My answer makes him flinch – it's barely visible but it's there.

He blinks, worries his bottom lip with his teeth, digesting it actually being said.

Out of my mouth.

"How can you do that?"

I raise an eyebrow, "Do _what_?"

"Act like it's nothing when it's something? Don't you realize that this is a life threatening situation? Your father could kill you! Don't you see that? Do you even care? Don't you know how bad you're fucking yourself over by not asking for help?"

I sigh, shaking me head.

**This** is why I didn't tell him in the first place.

I look back over at him and am shocked to see that his eyes hold a wet gleam to them. He doesn't have tears in his eyes – he doesn't. I blink, swallow and – shit – I don't know how to deal with these types of things. I watch, absolutely quiet, as he gets off the bed with his hands clenched at his sides and his face frowning over at me. I can tell that he's using everything he can to hold back the tears that want to roll down his cheeks.

"You're an **asshole**."

I won't let him get to me.

"So I've heard."

It only makes his current emotional status worse.

"You don't care about anyone except your fucking self! You don't give a shit about the fact that maybe someone, **me**, would actually be miserable if something happened to you! You just don't give a fucking shit."

I do, though, _I do_.

"You just don't give a fuck!"

I hope no one walks in downstairs. I wouldn't be surprised if someone could hear him across the street. I get up off the bed and take a step towards him. He takes a step back at the same time; he keeps his distance. I step forward again and this time grab him by the wrists and pull him against me. He struggles to get away, yelling at, calling me every name in the book. I wait for him to start punching me in the chest with his fists like the people always do in the movies but he doesn't and I realize it's probably because he doesn't want to hurt me.

"Get _off_ of me!"

I wrap my arms around his shaking body. He's crying freely now, no longer caring if he's crying or not. He continues to try and get out of my grasp but I hold him tighter against me. I hope I don't cut off his blood circulation.

"Justin – Sunshine, _calm down_."

"Don't 'Oh, calm down, Sunshine' me!"

I wrap my arms tighter and sufficiently get him to stop squirming, but he's still yelling at me through loss of breath and salty tears. I place a hand on the back of his head and bring his face into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry, Justin. I'm _sorry_." I don't know how many minutes pass with me whispering "I'm sorry" to him over and over again but he stops yelling and relaxes in my arms, my neck and the color of my shirt probably soaked by now with his tears but…I don't care. I run the hand that's not on the back of his head up and down his back and kiss him lightly on the head.

"Are you alright?"

I think it's pretty safe to say that Justin's _not_ alright.

He pulls back. His eyes are bloodshot. I run a hand through his hair and let him take a small step back; I give him his space. He doesn't answer me for a few minutes. I watch as he tries to work an answer in his head and, when he finally looks back at me, he doesn't say anything. He just looks sad and…hurt. Hurt that I don't tell him shit and hurt that I don't care about what he feels about all of this except – **I do care**.

"Justin – you're wrong."

He doesn't say a word – only blinks over his red eyes.

"No matter what you think, how you feel-I _do_ care about how you feel. You know I don't make a big deal out of things. You know that I don't _like_ to make a big deal out of things,"

"But this is something you _should_ make a big deal out of! Don't you see that?"

I inwardly sigh in relief when he doesn't yell.

It's a cross between whimpering and normal speaking.

"Can you _please_ calm down?"

"How can you expect me to calm down about something like this?"

"Can't you see that I'm alright?"

He shakes his head and I know he's looking at the bruises on my face. It's been worse, though, believe me. Surprisingly, it's gotten better since we moved. It might be because I'm out more or, maybe, my dad's just been getting drunk a lot more now, which makes it hard for him to actually walk so he can't walk to my room and come attack me. I take a step forward, tell him this, tell him to relax. He shakes his head one last time, sniffling.

"I won't talk about it anymore – but I can't promise that I won't worry."


	11. Admitting

**

* * *

**

BK

* * *

I manage to calm things down by ten.

He's acting normal again. He makes me help him with the dishes and then we do laundry. I think he's nervous about his father coming home and he wants everything to be perfect so Craig can't find something to yell at him about. I suggest that he just stay upstairs and pretend to be sleeping when he gets home and he seems to like the idea. Justin points out, however, that if his dad is in a bad enough mood or drunk, that he'll come upstairs and wake him up just to have a good yell.

"He's never _touched_ you…right?"

"No, he never touches me."

There's a touch of sympathy in his voice but he smiles a small smile over at me. Probably because I acted all concerned and whatnot. We leave the laundry sitting in the living room. It's all in nice neat piles – mom's clothes, dad's clothes, towels, washcloths, and so on. I help him carry his clothes upstairs and into his room and I watch as he anxiously puts them where they belong. When he's done he looks over at me and slowly sits down next to me on his bed. And as much as I'd like to start something, I won't because we both know his dad could get home any second, though we're both hoping that he won't.

* * *

**JT

* * *

**

Craig doesn't end up coming home early. In fact, my mom gets home before he does and she gets home at eleven. Brian and I are still in my room when we hear the door being unlocked. We _both_ let out sighs of relief when we hear my mom's tired voice from downstairs. "I'm home, Justin! Did your father ever show up?" Smiling, feeling totally relieved, the two of us unlock my bedroom door and hurry downstairs to greet Jennifer. She's dead tired as she sits herself down on the sofa. I jump down next to her and Brian sits next to me with a, "Hello, Mrs. Taylor." She looks surprised to see him here.

"Brian, what happened?"

I swallow and look over at his face. I can practically hear his brain thinking of a good excuse. I smile over at my mom. "He just fell down the stairs at school. Well, I accidentally pushed him down the stairs." Jennifer nods, distracted look on her face and I can practically hear Brian saying 'thanks' to me telepathically. I smile over at him and glance back over at Jennifer. "What's wrong, mom?"

"Your father's not home yet?"

"Uh, no, I guess he's…_busy_."

She rubs her temple and gets up off the couch. I jump up after her. "Mom, you look exhausted. You should really go to bed."_ And not think about the bastard you married_. She shakes her head while walking towards the kitchen. "I'm fine, Justin. I just need something to eat,"

"_I'll_ make it for you."

"And I need to wait for your dad."

"He's not my dad."

"_Justin_."

I ignore her and fling open the refrigerator door. I don't understand why she wants to wait up for him. She knows he's not really working. We all know he's really at some hotel with a married, or maybe unmarried, woman and fucking her. Brian shifts next to me as I dig through the fridge to make something for her. I listen to her sigh. "I talked to him today. He said things would be _different_." I shut the door to the fridge and shake my head.

"And his word is so reliable isn't it?"

"He was serious, Justin. He wants to make things _better_."

"So, making things better is fucking other women while you wait up for him? He doesn't mean a fucking word he says. He knows that you know what he's up to right now and he does it to you because he knows you're too _weak_ to do anything about it. He knows you'll wait up for him like a good little wife."

I barely acknowledge the fact that Brian leaves the kitchen. Jennifer rubs her eyes and gets up from the table.

"He's working late. Nothing more."

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? It's a fucking lie and we both know it. I don't know _why_ you're acting like this!"

"Give him a _chance_…"

"Fuck chances! I've given him enough. I've given him one too many chances, mom and he's not changing. He won't change. He's a bastard and he always will be."

She's on the brink of tears and I realize that I should really shut up. When I'm angry, though, I have a hard time shutting up.

"Justin, I'm…I'm _pregnant_."

I nearly drop the milk that I had grabbed out of the fridge. Pregnant? Is she serious? I stare at her for a moment - no, there's no way that she's kidding about this. But...she _can't _be pregnant! "You're fucking kidding me." She shook her head, distressed expression on her face. "No, Justin, I'm not kidding you. I know this is...hard to grasp but,"

"Hard to grasp? You're pregnant! And he knows. And he still treats you like _this_!"

"He's not the father."

This time I **do** drop the carton of milk I have in my hand. I'm not even about to clean it up, either. "Oh my god." She sighs, rubbing her temple with her thumb and forefinger. "You're just like _him_. You're a cheating," She holds her hand up. "Don't start with me, Justin. Your father started cheating long before I did." I step out of the kitchen. This is all really too hard to grasp. "What? So that makes it _right_?" I thrust a hand through my hair, furiously. I am furious. I can't believe this. She's on the brink of tears and she takes a few steps towards me. She looks desperate. She doesn't want me to run upstairs and hate her and, to be honest, I don't think I can hate her but I can be pretty damn mad at her. "Justin, I never said it was right but...I _did_ tell your father."

"Then what was all that shit about 'making things better?'"

"I'm filing for divorce. And he agrees."

"Well, I'm glad all these secrets are coming out. I might as well give you one of mine."

"I didn't mean for it to be a secret, Justin, I,"

"I'm _gay_. And I'm also going to bed. _You should too_."

* * *

"Are you alright?"

I walk upstairs completely...shocked. Did all of that just really happen? Brian's sitting on my bed when I arrive upstairs and I barely acknowledge that he spoke to me. I sit down next to him, though, still completely...just...shocked. She's pregnant. With some man's baby. Divorce. God. I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder and I quickly look over to meet Brian's concerned gaze. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?" I shrug, shaking my head. Is everything alright? I'm not even sure. "What happened down there?"

"They're getting a divorce. She's pregnant."

"With your dads,"

"No, someone else's. I don't know who."

"Oh."

"I told her I was gay."

"Oh - what'd she say?"

I shrug again, rubbing my eyes. "I left before she _could_." Brian's arm comes all the way around me and pulls me against him. I think I'm still too shocked to resist. Or maybe my body doesn't want to resist. "Your mom sounds like a reasonable person...I'm sure she won't really care." I hope so. I look over at him and rest my head on his shoulder, face burrowing into his neck. His warm, soft neck. He has a nice neck. I draw in a deep breath and try and calm myself down. I don't want to go into shock, though, I'm sure it's a major possibility - me going into shock. I close my eyes as Brian's hand strokes back and forth in my hair, pulling gently at it and massaging my head every few seconds. I could probably fall asleep like this. No, I can fall asleep like this. I'm feeling kind of sleepy right now, actually. "Bri..."

"Yeah?"

"Tired."

"Well, you've had a _big _day."

* * *

**BK

* * *

**

When I wake up there's a weight on my chest. Not an uncomfortable weight, though. More of a very comfortable weight on my chest. Yawning, I slowly open my eyes and let them adjust to the sun seeping through the cracks in Justin's blinds. Then I have to adjust to the shock of blond hair in my line of vision. Yesterday had been very...eventful for him. A small knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts and I quickly shake Justin awake. It's his mom I'm guessing. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's his mom because I'm sure his dad wouldn't have knocked. Justin doesn't even have a chance to blush at are sleeping arrangement because there's another soft knock on the door and he's leaping off of me like he's on fire and rushing towards the door. When it swings open I find that I'm right. It is Jennifer. "Mom..."

"I-I made breakfast for you too. If you're hungry."

"...Thanks."

"Your welcome, honey."

I look over at the clock - school has already started. I guess we're not going.

With that she's rushing off downstairs and leaving the two of us alone again. He looks over at me, "D-do you wanna eat?" I can tell his awkward mode is switching on and I find it...slightly...amusing. I mean, we just slept and he's acting like it's the most embarrassing thing in the world. "Only if _you _do." We end up going downstairs and we're both very surprised to see Craig sitting at the dining room table with Jennifer. Justin kind of freezes and I think he's going to run back up those stairs as fast as he possibly can but, surprisingly, he doesn't. He stiffly sits down and I follow suit. The four of us are deathly silent as we eat. I wonder when one of them is actually going to say something. Craig shifts in his seat, sets his fork down and I'm sure that all silence is about to be broken. I bet Justin can't wait. "Justin, I've heard something very..._interesting_ from your mother last night." I glance over at the blond and sure enough, he's completely frozen. I think we both know what's coming. Justin doesn't make eye contact with his father. He just stares at his food and I stare at mine.

"Jennifer tells me that you're _gay_."

He sounds disgusted. Justin doesn't say a word and I glance up at Jennifer. She suddenly looks like she regrets something. She probably regrets ever telling Craig about Justin's sexuality. Craig folds his hands on his lap and continues staring at Justin; there's a look of absolute distaste on his face. "That you're a _fag_. That's unacceptable." Justin still doesn't say word and I really wish he'd, at least, stick up for himself. I wish I could tell his father to shove it. My fist really wants to punch him. "No son of _mine_ is going to be a disgusting _homo._" Something must've snapped inside Justin because he's suddenly not so frozen and he's suddenly not so quiet anymore. "As far as _I'm_ concerned I'm not your son. And, you know what? I don't give a _flying fuck_ what you think. So, without further ado, you can go shove something up your ass." When he shoves himself away from the table, it shakes and I quickly follow after him. "Justin," He blatantly ignores his mother and stomps up the stairs and I have to half walk, half jog to keep up with him as he hurries up the stairs.

When we get into his room he slams the door as hard as he can and locks it.

A few seconds later we both hear Craig and Jennifer fighting up a storm.

"Are you alright?"

The blond nods, slowing seating himself down onto his bed. I sit down next to him not really sure what to do. I've never been good in the comforting department. "I _hate_ him." His voice is really quiet and he's playing with his fingers in his lap, frown on his face. "You have a right to hate him, Justin. He's a bastard." He shakes his head; he runs a hand furiously thrusts a hand through his hair. "But...I'm still upset. I'm actually _hurt_ at what he said. I mean, I hate him. Why should I care? He's an asshole yet, I still care about what he thinks about me." I don't know what that feels like. Well, when it comes to my parents, I mean. I know what my dad thinks about me and I don't give a shit about it. I hesitantly rest a hand on the back of Justin's neck, fingers massaging lightly. "You shouldn't care. Soon, he'll be out of your life and...It'll be ok." Justin suddenly looks over at me, suddenly looking angry. "I shouldn't be complaining - you have it _way_ worst than I do. I'm so selfish." I roll my eyes, "Justin, you're not selfish. You're just venting and I'd rather you tell me. I don't think you're selfish at all. So, keep venting."

"I'm...done, actually."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure...thanks."

"Do I get a _reward_?"

He slaps me lightly on the arm but I achieved my goal - there's a smile on his face. "Hey, I was just _curious_." He continues smiling and then he slides over, just slightly, closer to me. "I guess you _do _deserve something for being a good listener."

"Damn right I do."

"Is your face ok?"

"It was ok _yesterday_, Taylor."

"**Kiss me then**."

* * *

Guys, I am so **sorry** for taking so long to get some chapters up. It's been so hectic lately and, well, I just haven't had a lot of time to write and whatnot. I hope you'll all forgive me, though. Also, I'm not sure how I feel about these two chapters but I'll leave that up to the readers. Alright, then, tell me what ya'll think. Thanks. 


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